


Won't You Tell Us Of The Clouds

by semi_automatic, twenty_one_plants



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Angel Wings, Ghosts, Healing, Heaven, Human!Josh, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic, angel!tyler, its cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-01
Updated: 2016-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-24 05:22:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6142829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/semi_automatic/pseuds/semi_automatic, https://archiveofourown.org/users/twenty_one_plants/pseuds/twenty_one_plants
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The air pressure returns to normal as he hears another scream, the ghosts are gone.</p><p>A presence outside had destroyed the spirits trying to attack.</p><p>For the first time, Josh is free.</p><p>He jumps up, shivering, pacing, still feeling an almost… holy presence outside.</p><p>“Oh, oh god, oh god this isn’t g-good, oh fuck. Fuck I’m gonna die aren’t I. Fuck.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Won't You Tell Us Of The Clouds

**Author's Note:**

> sorry we don't have an update for ttlc, tyler has been in the hospital,,,,,,,,,,,,,,   
> here's this

The man was yelling and Tyler’s only thought was  _ calm him down, calm him down, get him okay and get him through, that’s easy enough. _

It was Tyler’s job.

“Sir, you’re alright, you’re alright mister, nothing bad is--”

“ _ NO! I am not alright! I’m fucking DEAD and I left my family down there!” _

The screaming hurts Tyler’s ears. He blinks, taking a deep breath.

“There’s nothing to be done about that now. You can’t go back. Come on, it’s okay…” Gentle pale hands reaching out, careful to try and steady the man, comfort him.

“No!”

The man swings. Tyler tries to duck, but too late. Knocked off balance, he feels the ground slip from his feet, nothing to catch him.

A soft moment of confusion, disbelief, weightlessness…    
  
Then a scream leaves his lungs as the wind tears at him, falling out of heaven and watching it get further and further away, tearing holes in clouds and he can’t breathe he can’t breathe with the wind stealing the air and the noise from his lungs, roaring in his ears.

_Terror_ terror terror, he tries to open his wings to catch some air and slow the fall, but all that happens is his right wing snaps back with a sickening crack, ripping another scream from Tyler as pain makes spots swim in front of him. He hopes he dies, he thinks, but what happens when an angel dies?

Then suddenly, blackness completely takes him over for a second as he slams into something solid, knocking him unconscious for a moment. His left wing crumples painfully, his head throbs as he wakes up. Feathers stick together with slowly congealing crimson blood from where tree branches had scratched him violently. 

He’s not sure if it’s lucky or awful that his wings took most of the damage.

He sits up, tries to move them feebly, nearly screams.

Right wing having snapped, the left having crumpled, both torn in multiple places.

The pain is excruciating.

A cold, confused fear settles in his gut, already having pinned blankets up on windows and triple locked doors while dust collected on car keys hung to the door.

He hadn’t been out in a car in  _ months,  _ the fear taking over when he tried to drive somewhere, making him hide again, three times the terror and three times the ghosts in his home.

It gets  _ worse,  _ closer to the center.

He whispers a blessing to himself, casting a quick circle and clutching the crystals around his neck.

Hearing something fall in the backyard accompanied by the most disgusting screams he’s ever heard is just too much.

The circle breaks, the ghosts close in on him, knocking him to the floor.

Slowly covering his eyes and quickly chanting out a spell, begging for Mother Goddess to help him, somehow, possibly Triple Goddess might help, he’s simply--

The air pressure returns to normal as he hears another scream, the ghosts are gone.

A presence outside had destroyed the spirits trying to attack.

For the first time, Josh is free.

He jumps up, shivering, pacing, still feeling an almost…  _ holy  _ presence outside.

“Oh, oh god, oh god this isn’t g-good, oh  _ fuck.  _ Fuck I’m gonna die aren’t I. Fuck.”

Josh doesn’t bother anymore. Anything outside that had come and destroyed the ghosts could do whatever it, they, whatever, wanted to him.

He was going to always be grateful. After over half his life living with these ghosts, hell, his  _ whole  _ life, they were finally gone.

He opens the back door, that cold, confused fear dropping angrily in his gut as he sees what appears to be a holy angel, broken and bloodied in his yard.

The fear doesn’t overtake him as he quickly dashes out, scooping the angel in his arms.

He has things to help.

He know he does.

The fact that an angel came with the spell was shocking, the fact that the spell  _ worked. _

Although, reality crashes down on him.

Quite literally, as seen a few moments ago.

_ This is Josh’s fault. _

_ This poor holy creature’s wings are mangled because of him. _

_ Mother Goddess would never forgive him for this. _

_ Josh would never forgive himself for this. _

But that’s not a serious problem in this moment.

Quickly carrying this creature into the space that could barely be called a bedroom, a lifted mattress tucked in one corner and lots of crystals and lights around the room, string lights, a massive pentacle on the floor with candles all around.

Josh quickly gets Tyler on the mattress, peeling off his shirt, wanting to see how bad the damage was.

No questions.

Josh reaches over, hand rummaging through a mess. Once he finds the flask of rosewater, he washes Tyler’s wings with it, not caring about the bed. He could simply flip the mattress over, he had been sleeping on the couch in recent months.

“I’m sorry if it hurts, I’m gonna get your wings in splints after I clean them up. I don’t… I know you’re a holy creature and I’m not sure if you’re from Mother Goddess or another God or Goddess, but I’m going to do what I know, okay? I’ll thoroughly explain what spell I’ll cast, and if you don’t want me casting anything on you, please tell me.”

As he’s speaking, he’s gently flipping Tyler onto his stomach, laying face down on the mattress and carefully, oh so carefully stretching out Tyler’s wings to figure out where and what was hurt, broken, and needed to be cleaned.

“I’ll be right back, I have to get a bucket of water, okay? I need to wash your wings with rosewater and herbals. If there’s anything you can tell me to do that specifically helps your kind of holy angel, please, tell me if you can. Also, before I go and grab the bucket, is it okay if I cast a spell on you? It’s to numb it, it’s like an anesthetic that only affects one specific part of the body. I’ll cast it on your wings’ nerves so it won’t hurt as bad.”

Josh’s hand finds itself on Tyler’s, gently squeezing his hand and simply being there.

“I’ll take care of you. You’re safe here, I’ll protect you. I… I say this again, I don’t know what sort of holy angel you are but I’ll use what I can to help you.”

Josh is silently preparing the spell to numb Tyler with.

But, of course, he needs to know that Tyler is okay with this.

The fear of someone he didn’t know touching his injured wings, the fear of being taken somewhere he doesn’t know, are both thrown out the window with how much pain Tyler is in.

The hand that Josh squeezes is quickly holding on for dear life.

Tears are streaming down Tyler’s face, and he never knew he could truly be blinded by pain, but now he honestly can’t see straight.

Every shift of his wings makes him dizzy with the pain.

He wants to twist away, but that would just hurt worse.

The words of a spell that could numb the pain make Tyler nod instantly, practically biting his lip so hard it bleeds.

“P-Please numb it if you can, please, please, it hurts so bad it hurts so bad…”

An angel reduced to begging, sobbing in the overwhelming pain from the delicate bones in both of his wings getting snapped and then getting torn by branches. 

The slightest movement of his left wing, something bends where it clearly shouldn’t. Tyler yelps, his hand a death grip on Josh’s.

“It hurts it hurts it hurts please make it  _ stop _ …”

The feelings in the house quake, strange wavy feelings stretching through, causing his own vibrations to tremble violently, the outside appearing as calm and collected.

The insides are quivering and in the dark.

Josh slowly begins to mumble something under his breath, it feels like another language but nothing mattered with what he was doing. Simply help the holy creature, don’t let the shakiness of the inside conquer the out.

There probably isn’t a sun, but not as if Josh ever knew. He never went outside unless utterly mandatory.

He misses sunlight, feeling wind whip around his hair in rapid locks of a faded greenish-blue.

Remembering the pulling, the pushing, the way the wind almost knocked him over.

_ God, what he would give to fly. _

_ He would’ve lost his halo by now. _

_ Some sort of spell about favorite knives. _

Feeling the tendrils of white slinking slowly down, wrapping around this creature’s wings, squeezing tight before slackening immediately, so sudden.

Tyler can hardly feel his wings; just soft twinges of pain.

Josh nods to himself, the white tendrils coming back. Of course, these were not able to be seen, simply how he viewed his healing magic, which, hardly ever worked.

_ If it doesn’t work for himself, why should it work for others? He doubts. _

Josh swallows, stroking a hand down Tyler’s back before pulling his hand from Tyler’s grasp.

“I’m going to go get a bucket and some other things, okay? I will be back, I promise. By the way, I’m Joshua Dun.”

Before even awaiting a reply, he’s turned to the door, frozen in his step.

A ghost flashing by the door to his bedroom, face going white as he stares on in fear.

Wanting to collapse, memories taunting and something like smoke flooding his senses as he squares his shoulders, collecting himself from the ghosts, finding his little pieces.

He never wants to see from those eyes, to see what this has all become, something simple but too complex for himself.

The room is protected with a pentacle; a forever circle cast through that, safety.

The other rooms were not safe.

Josh tenses, dashing through the door, feeling the sudden shift in temperature, feeling his throat grow irritated, feeling his breath come out as soft smoke.

Get the bucket. Get the water. Get the rosewater, get anything else.

On his way to the kitchen, a large white figure looms in the walkway, eyes staring down at Josh.

He freezes in his step, staring at the large ghost.

The ghost doesn’t speak, accepting the realization that…

“I’m helping them. Get out of my way. I command you, you do not live in this home anymore.”

Josh walks right on through the spirit, the spirit simply watching as he grabs a bucket from under the sink, filling it up with lukewarm water and grabbing some clove and lavish rocks from the windowsill, sprinkling it into the water before turning back to the spirit.

He gestures for the spirit to move out of the way.

The spirit never speaks. Acceptance of moving onward, of the fact…

“Get out of my way.”

Josh walks past, right through, not afraid anymore.

Josh doesn’t look back, simply walking back into his bedroom, sitting beside Tyler and starting to gently inspect the wounds.

The spirit’s eyes linger on the doorway to the bedroom, before casting downwards.

The spirit fades into soft steam, carrying through the air before escaping out the back door, floating upwards, breathless, dissipating into the air, the atmosphere.   
The spirit accepts the fact that Joshua had an angel fall into his arms.


End file.
